The Kheshig that came alongside Argrave seemed keen to take advantage of the centaurs’ position… but they bent to Argrave in a display of remarkable discipline. It was true that powerful spells might put an end to the centaurs, so closely gathered as they were. The man-beasts had rudimentary knowledge of magic, but nothing strong enough to defend from S-rank spells. They were generally hardy, and dispersed wide enough that magic alone was insufficient. Having them gathered as such was a rare occasion.

But it wasn’t to be. Argrave needed their strength—he just needed to turn it against the right enemy. So, they headed back. It was a mutual retreat, with the few centaurs free of the trap struggling to help their fellows out of their hole. With injuries galore, they would certainly take some days to heal—and these days would be time enough to enact all the elven gods intended to.

When Argrave returned, he had a rather different preconception of the reception that he’d receive. He thought that he’d be speaking to the Supreme Myriarch, brashly and confidently saying that Orion had faced the army of the centaurs on his lonesome and triumphed. His brother deserved a little bit of credit and praise—he certainly wouldn’t take any himself.

Instead, when they returned to the location of the elven city… Ghan, patriarch of the elven gods, sat on the forest floor. None of the other elven gods were here, but they didn’t need to be. This man alone had a presence enough to intimidate, and in terms of combat ability, he was certainly the strongest of them all. Even sitting, the gray-haired deity came to half the height of one of the towering redwoods. The wood elves in the trees far above looked down at him with both reverence and caution.

Someone was sent out to greet Argrave’s returning party. Instead of speaking to him, the first thing they did was recall the Kheshig back to the Supreme Myriarch’s side—that unnerved Argrave, and his mind immediately went to the prospect of news about Erlebnis leaking. Next, the messenger spoke to Argrave.

“King,” the man greeted—that his title was still used boded well. “Ghan has been discussing matters with the Supreme Myriarch. Now, he wishes to speak to you directly.”

Argrave stared at the man blankly. Was this what Erlebnis spoke of? He wondered. Light the fire, but don’t watch it burn? Was it a warning? Was this alliance doomed to fail?

But from the beginning, he had committed to this. The elves and their gods were too powerful an ally to leave to chance, and Kirel Qircassia’s disruption was too damaging to allow to fester. So Argrave nodded and said, “I’ll go.”

Anneliese grabbed Argrave’s arm firmly. “Not alone, though. Orion and I shall come.”

Argrave was torn between leaving her out of this to protect her and bringing her along to gain her insight into the conversation. At the end of the day, she had agreed to face every challenge that came by his side, and he could not rob her of that.

“Make camp,” Argrave commanded his Veidimen officer, Grimalt. “If you need food… I’d be a little disappointed if you couldn’t bag a big wolf or two, seeing as the centaurs flushed all the game in the forest in this direction.”

“We’re meant to guard you,” the bald officer protested. “That interrogation yesterday… was this what worried you?”

Argrave huffed, surprised this man had seen through their intentions. “Could you guard me?” He shook his head. “If he wants to stomp me flat, I don’t think a few more pointy sticks will help. I’ll be fine. Take care of the men.”

Grimalt seemed to have difficulty swallowing his pride and powerlessness, but his respect for Argrave proved a sufficient chaser for the bitter truth. The amber-eyed Veidimen nodded in confirmation, then went to do Argrave’s bidding.

With that, the royalty of Vasquer headed to meet Ghan. Looking up at him, Argrave saw the dimmest shadow of Galamon. His white hair clearly came from age rather than birth, and the man had half a thousand too many scars, but there was an air of authority, command, and solemnity much the same as Argrave’s good friend. From what Argrave remembered, they certainly had similar personalities.

Ghan’s red eyes followed Argrave as he walked slowly closer. He was wondering when the god might speak, but he never did, not even when Argrave was only a few feet from touching him.

“What did you need from me?” Argrave asked.

“This is becoming more than what I thought,” Ghan began. “My children bring to me a harebrained scheme… but the only detail I needed was that one sought to free us from our bonds. Now, it seems I was the one stuck in old thinking.” He leaned in closely. “You came to us through Sara’s portals.”

Though the name briefly confused him, he recalled belatedly that Sara was an old, abandoned name of the Holy Mother to the centaurs, Sarikiz. “I did.” Argrave nodded, then looked to the others with him. “But to talk more…”

Ghan held his hand out. Magic manifested, even despite the fact that Argrave could see no magic within the deity. An S-rank spell completed, and it shrouded them all in a ward from which no light nor sound could escape.

“She is a traitor.” Ghan didn’t seem angry, but he did state that without room for argument.

“I don’t think she betrayed you. Your two parties had a disagreement about the direction you would take.”

Ghan ground his teeth, and electricity came out of his mouth. “We were allies in our rebellion. And because of that disagreement, as you call it, we did battle. She was cast into a slumber through this entire millennium, while we were left removed enough from our people that they lost their faith.”

Argrave stared. He had plenty to say on the matter. At the same time, his nuanced analysis about the failure in their alliance wasn’t something that needed to be voiced. He was just pleased that this conversation wasn’t about what he’d feared.

“That’s neither here nor there,” he responded decisively after thinking. “What I propose to Sarikiz would benefit her and you in equal ways. Divinity is necessary to close Kirel Qircassia’s breach permanently—since I know you don’t want to volunteer one of your family members, she is the best fit.”

“Do you still care for her?” Anneliese asked suddenly.

Argrave spared her a glance and then turned back to Ghan. The deity mulled over her words.

“…the rest of my family does not,” he admitted quietly, implying that he still did. “She won’t come to harm?”

“No. She’ll be isolated, but the scope of her divinity will expand, I’m sure of it,” Argrave nodded. “Isolation will matter less for her than it will for you. And the centaurs will be out of your hair. So long as I explain that to her, everything should be fine.”

Ghan raised his hand up and clenched it. The ward fell around them.

“Then I shall return. Talk to the Woodschildren. Their leader had words for you. I believe the battle is nearing its beginning.”

#####

Argrave rose up to the elven city, riding the pulley elevator for the first time. He felt a strong sense of relief watching Ghan return to the other elven gods. When the fast-moving platform finally came to a stop, Argrave looked around cautiously before proceeding into the city. Once he arrived, his cousin ran at him.

Nikoletta voice trembled as she said, “My father, he… they think he… he might still be alive.”

“You’re serious?” Argrave asked in surprise.

Nikoletta continued, “Rovostar apparently travelled along the eastern shore. He never even entered the Bloodwoods—far too scared for that. The elves have been watching him, but thus far he’s stayed far away from the woods, staying on the beaches. He seemed to be trying to make it to Quadreign. Movements along the northern border made him scare, and so he’s… he’s been camped out, five or six days now. The group’s at least six strong… and one of them has blue hair,” she finished, her voice tight.

Argrave smiled broadly. “That’s tremendous news, Nikoletta.”

“We’re going out with a small party soon,” she continued. “Mina can come, right? You don’t need us for anything?”

“It’d comfort me to know you were far away,” Argrave nodded, then stepped in and whispered, “If you have the opportunity, deliver the berries. I know your hawk can’t fly exceptionally far, but…”

“Yeah,” Nikoletta nodded, then bounced on her heels nervously. “Argrave… do people get this lucky? Do things like this really happen?”

“Luck comes to everybody. Just have to be ready to seize it fully,” he ruffled her hair. “Go on. I have to talk to the Supreme Myriarch.”

Nikoletta stepped to the side, clearly a mess of anxiety. Argrave was pleased for her. He was sure the elves would be more than sufficient to recapture a hostage without bringing harm to him. What remained uncertain was the other struggle.

Argrave entered back into the Supreme Myriarch’s meeting chamber. Now, only Purev and Batbayar remained.

“I received a report,” their leader said at once, almost before Argrave could see him. “What you two did… it was beyond what I thought achievable. And I hope that remains the case. Even with gods spearheading our assault, the things that we fight… if we wait much longer, it won’t be a feigned retreat, but a true one.”

Argrave stepped inside. “I’m well and ready.”

Batbayar nodded. “More and more men are coming to the frontlines. I’d say we’ll be ready to do this in two days. Even still… we must review. Paths of retreat, regroup points, positions… the snow elf honor guard of yours seemed disciplined, and we hope to incorporate them seamlessly into our plans. We would hope for you to take the rear of our formation.”

The Supreme Myriarch nodded. “It might sound safe, but it’s to be a pivotal role. We’re punching through the enemy’s ranks—if ever our march should stall, the rear will face the bulk of the assault. You would become the frontliners in a heartbeat.”

Argrave gave slow, steady nods. “I can manage that.”

It appeared the time grew ever closer for the confrontation with the servants of Kirel Qircassia. Argrave had shed a lot of blood to come here. Perhaps it was time to see how much thicker it was than water.

He raised his hand, watching the trailing maroon blood echo. After only a day of rest… they would march.